


if you want a storm come dance with me

by mozaikmage



Series: past echoes in the future [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, Pining, Post-Canon, Pro Volleyball Player Oikawa Tooru, level of research: SOME, sports journalist sugawara koushi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-10
Updated: 2018-08-10
Packaged: 2019-06-25 10:32:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15638952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mozaikmage/pseuds/mozaikmage
Summary: Oikawa and Suga accidentally run into each other 3 years after high school and then very slowly become friends and then more than friends. wild





	if you want a storm come dance with me

**Author's Note:**

> this is set in the same universe as [this fic](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14960306/chapters/34668998) and I started writing it bc I got stuck on chapter 2 of the fic I linked and wanted to take my mind off it. One month and 10,000 words later... (both fics can stand on their own tho)  
> title from UP 2 U by Walk the Moon which is a song that fits this thematically I think  
> thanks to everyone who looked at this in the google doc stage, especially jamie, who still hasn't seen haikyuu and supports me regardless #bffsies

“...You’re not Takahashi-san,” is the first thing Oikawa Tooru says to Sugawara Koushi after three years of zero contact.

Sugawara just beams at him, completely undaunted, which is rude and uncalled for. Sugawara’s smile is too bright to be facing Tooru right after his first practice match as part of F. C. Tokyo’s starting lineup. Tooru was informed that he’d be giving an interview to Takahashi from  _ Sports Monthly _ that day about becoming a starter on the team. He was not informed that Takahashi-san, who had covered his games before, had apparently been replaced by one of Tooru’s high school rivals. Sugawara’s wearing his hair shorter than how Tooru remembers it, and he’s also sporting a very flattering pastel button-down shirt. The overall effect is even more refreshing than he used to be on the volleyball court. Tooru hates it a little bit.

“Takahashi-san’s out sick today. I was supposed to be shadowing him as part of my internship, but my boss cleared me to conduct this interview on my own today!” Sugawara beams at Tooru some more, and this time Tooru can pick up on the faint hint of nervousness behind his words. “I’m Sugawara Koushi, third-year student at Meiji, intern at  _ Sports Monthly. _ ”

Tooru peers at him curiously, wondering if admitting that he remembers Sugawara from two entire matches back in high school would be weird. Sugawara’s shoulders are pulled up slightly, and he’s holding his notepad like an anchor. 

“Karasuno’s Refreshing-kun,” he says eventually, with a nod. A good interview would help both of them, so might as well put the guy at ease.

It works. The tension leaves Sugawara’s shoulders, and his smile seems a touch more genuine. “Haven’t heard that name in a while, Oikawa-san! I’m surprised you remember me.”

“You were annoying,” Tooru blurts out. “With your targeted serves.”

Sugawara tilts his head. “I’ll take that as a compliment, I guess! Now then, Takahashi-san prepared some questions to ask you...”

Tooru likes interviews well enough, but he’s never been quite comfortable with the uneven flow of information. Especially not now. He’s rattling off pre-packaged answers while looking at Sugawara and wondering: Why did he quit volleyball? How did he end up in sports journalism? Does Tobio-chan still message him for advice? 

But Sugawara’s the one asking the questions here.

Sugawara hits stop on the voice recording app and bows. “Thank you for your time, Oikawa-san.”

“Oikawa’s fine,” Tooru says. “We’re the same age, aren’t we?”

“Actually,” Tooru continues, pulling his phone out of his practice bag. “Do you want to go get coffee sometime and catch up?” He’s just curious, okay, about what Sugawara’s been up to.

Sugawara looks at him like Tooru just asked him to do a strip tease in front of the entire volleyball team. “Why?”

“Why not?” Tooru smiles at the other man. That just makes Sugawara narrow his eyes in suspicion.

“We talked like, twice in high school. You weren’t very nice to my team back then, either. Especially Kageyama-kun.”

“We were rivals!” Tooru waves this off. “I could give you some  _ exclusive content _ for your magazine,” Tooru says, wiggling his eyebrows. 

Sugawara just rolls his eyes. “We asked you for an interview, not an exclusive.” He shoves his phone in his pocket and turns towards the door. “See you around, Oikawa.”

“See you, Refreshing-kun.” Tooru watches him leave, feeling...disgruntled. He’s vaguely reminded of the time he tried to talk to Karasuno’s pretty girl manager and was utterly ignored. This feels worse, though, probably because Sugawara  _ didn’t  _ ignore him. Sugawara doesn’t like Tooru, and for a legitimate reason, Tooru has to admit.

Whatever. It’s not like he’s going to see Sugawara again any time soon, right?

\---

The next time they cross paths is a few months later, at a charity ball for some sports association or another. 

“Refreshing-kun,” Tooru says, when he spots a familiar gray head of hair in a sea of volleyball players. 

Sugawara’s eyes narrow slightly. “Oikawa,” he says. His suit looks nice on him, Tooru thinks, probably tailored. Sugawara’s bowtie is a shimmery silver color that matches his hair. 

Tooru swirls his glass of expensive champagne around in one hand. It’s not his first glass of the evening. “How did  _ you _ get an invite to this? I thought it was an exclusive event.”  

Sugawara smiles at that, looking a little mischievous. “I know people.”

“It’s me, I’m the people,” Bokuto Koutarou, one of Tooru’s new teammates, blurts out, slinging an arm around Sugawara. “Suga mentioned he wanted to come, so I got him a ticket. Hi, Oikawa.”

Tooru stares at the two of them, particularly the way Bokuto appears to be as comfortable around Sugawara as with any of their other teammates. When did they meet?  _ How _ did they meet? Was it at that nationals tournament back in high school, or what?

“I didn’t know you two were friends,” is what he ends up saying.

“Suga’s a really reliable texter,” Bokuto tells him. “We don’t hang out very much in real life, but he responds to my memes almost as fast as Akaashi!”

Sugawara rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling fondly. “I like to keep in touch with people.”

“But not me? I’m wounded, Refreshing-kun, truly I am.” 

“Suga!” Bokuto gasps at him, like he’s on the cusp of a grand epiphany. “Oikawa’s my friend! And you’re my friend! So you should be friends with each other!”

“Should we, now.” Sugawara sounds politely amused. He looks at Tooru, just for a second.

“Yes,” Bokuto declares. 

And maybe it was the atmosphere, or the alcohol, or the supernatural charisma of Bokuto Koutarou’s mere presence, but Sugawara says, “Fine. You wanted to get coffee, right? Let’s go for coffee. Give me your phone.”

Sugawara types in his details with precision. “I’m surprised you remembered. It’s been a while since then, hasn’t it?” Tooru says.

Sugawara looks up at him. “I remember a lot of things,” he says, and  _ there’s  _ that undercurrent of danger Tooru remembers, from so long ago. 

“Look, I’m sorry for...whatever. For being a dick in high school, I guess. I really do think you’re interesting, and I want to try being friends with you. Or whatever.” The instant the words are out of his mouth, Tooru wants to cram them back in: they’re way more honest and less clever than he intended. Sugawara’s sure to change his mind now.

Sugawara just laughs a little, and gives Tooru his phone back. “We can figure out what you’re apologizing for over coffee.”

\---

“Why do I even care so much?” Tooru whines on the phone to Iwa-chan, a few days later.

“You tell me, Shittykawa.” Iwa-chan’s distracted by a lab report due at midnight. His decision to pursue a sports med degree and college volleyball instead of going pro straight out of high school was the subject of many arguments the last few months of third year. Tooru’s still not sure, sometimes, how they’ve managed to split so far apart after being so close all their lives. Maybe they needed to separate in order to grow, but sometimes, Tooru just really misses his best friend.

“Maybe I just don’t like the fact that someone I barely know doesn’t like me,” Tooru muses. “Or maybe it’s because he’s a journalist, and if he doesn’t like me he could ruin my career somehow.”

“I don’t think he cares enough for that,” Iwa-chan says. “Why are you calling me about this, again?”

“I don’t know! Ugh!” Tooru flops down on his bed. He’d texted Sugawara earlier that day and set up their little coffee meeting thing. He kind of regrets it already. “I think he’s still holding the way I treated Tobio-chan back in middle and high school against me.”

“Didn’t you make Takeru take a picture of Kageyama bowing to you? That was extremely petty, for an eighteen year old.  _ Especially _ for an eighteen year old.”

“Iwa-chan, I did not ask.”

“It was your phone background for a full year.”

“I  _ did not ask. _ Also, there’s no way Refreshing-kun would know about that, so.”

“You’re still kind of a petty asshole,” Iwa-chan says. “You’re just better at hiding it when it counts. And your whole ‘obsessive perfectionist’ thing tends to punch through the petty aspect most of the time.”

“You know what, I didn’t come here to be attacked like this,” Tooru declares, and ends the call with Iwa-chan’s laughter ringing in his ears. 

Iwa-chan’s right, though. He always is.

Tooru picks a coffee shop near his apartment and gets there early. Sugawara shows up exactly on time, and he doesn’t look even a little bit fazed at the fact that Tooru was there first.

“Excited for our date?” Sugawara asks drily.

“What?” Tooru squeaks, and then wants to kick himself immediately. “This isn’t a  _ date. _ ”

“Friend date,” Sugawara says.

“Acquaintance...meeting,” Tooru says, and Sugawara just looks at him, both eyebrows raised, smirking slightly.

“You’re  _ teasing  _ me,” Tooru realizes, and Sugawara’s smirk widens. “Wow, Refreshing-kun, didn’t think you had it in you.”

“The cute innocent look is just a look, ask anyone,” Sugawara tells him. “Let’s go in.”

Sugawara orders a black coffee, and Tooru gets his usually sugar-and-whipped-cream monstrosity with a slice of cake.

“Don’t pro volleyball players have to stick to a diet plan?”

“We’re allowed cheat days,” Tooru says, digging into his whipped cream mountain. “What’re you gonna do, tell my nutritionist?”

Sugawara grins. “I’m a journalist, remember?” He picks up his phone and pretends to type. “Oikawa Tooru, newest addition to F. C. Tokyo’s starting lineup, prefers cake and frappuccinos to eating healthy—”

Tooru can’t help the snort of laughter that escapes him, and Sugawara snickers, too.

“So,” Sugawara says, sobering. “You wanted to catch up, for whatever reason. And apologize.” He looks at Tooru, like,  _ let’s hear it. _

“Uh. Well.” Tooru sips his frappuccino. “What do you want me to say? Yeah, I was a dick to Tobio-chan. Yeah, he probably didn’t deserve it. I heard he’s at Chuo with the shrimp now, though, so it’s not like he didn’t turn out okay in the end.”

Sugawara looks at Tooru in a way that makes Tooru feel like he’s seeing into Tooru’s thoughts, which is unsettling because Tooru’s usually the one to do that to his conversation partners. “Just...  _ Why  _ were you so mean? You could’ve taught him to work with other people and be a team player and then maybe that whole King of the Court disaster wouldn’t have happened.”

“And then maybe he wouldn’t have come to Karasuno, and you guys wouldn’t have won nationals,” Tooru points out. “There’s a lot of maybes, Suga-chan.” 

He swirls a spoon around in his mug. “As for why, well...natural-born geniuses piss me off.” He blinks at Sugawara a few times. “I’m sure you know how that feels.”

Something flashes in Sugawara’s eyes for a second, but it’s gone just as quickly. “I do, yeah.”

“So, what do you think, Suga-chan? Can we be friends now?”

That wariness from before is back. “Why do you want to be friends with me?” 

“Why wouldn’t I?” 

Sugawara gives him a flat look.

“You’re interesting,” Tooru says. “And I mean, Bokuto thinks highly of you, and being friends with a sports reporter could come in handy for both of us in the future, right?” Sugawara  _ is  _ interesting, and something about talking to him made Tooru want to poke deeper.

Sugawara is looking at him now like he’s calculating the exact positives and negatives of continuing this conversation. His cup of coffee’s almost empty, Tooru notices.

“Sure,” Sugawara says, after a long pause. “Okay. Let’s try being friends.”

 

So they do try being friends. Sugawara, Tooru discovers, takes “keeping in touch” very seriously. He texts Tooru randomly every few weeks, sending him links to articles or memes he thinks Tooru might like. They don’t get close right away, of course, but slowly find themselves spending more and more time around each other. They have a lot of mutual friends from volleyball, for instance. Sometimes Tooru looks up at the bleachers and sees Sugawara sitting with Iwa-chan, or someone from Karasuno, or someone from one of those Tokyo schools. 

“Cheer for me?” Tooru asks, the first time he sees Sugawara there.

Sugawara pretends to think about it. “Don’t you have enough fangirls, Oikawa-kun?” He looks pointedly to his left, where a group of girls are holding up a banner that reads: “You can do it, Tooru-kun!”

Tooru just widens his eyes and looks at Sugawara imploringly, until the reporter smiles and says, “Do your best,  _ Tooru-kun _ ,” in a sickeningly sweet voice probably meant to be imitating the fangirls. Tooru laughs.

If Sugawara’s reporting on the game, he sits by himself close to the front, press badge clipped to his shirt and laptop out, a look of intense concentration on his face Oikawa definitely remembers seeing back in high school. “I’m not cheering for anyone today, I’m an impartial observer,” he says on those days, smiling politely. This doesn’t stop him from jumping up and yelling with everyone else at particularly incredible plays, of course.

Sometimes Sugawara will invite Tooru out for coffee or a meal or something “just to catch up,” prompting Tooru to do the same. Not very often, maybe once every few months, but often enough to feel routine. Sugawara drinks black coffee and likes extra-spicy food, but won’t say no to trying some of Tooru’s sugary dessert things if they’re offered. He mentions girlfriends and boyfriends occasionally, but none of them are ever very serious, the relationships beginning and ending with minimal stress on anyone’s side, the way Sugawara tells it. 

The first time Sugawara mentions dating men, about two years into their new friendship, he cuts himself off and looks at Tooru carefully. “You don’t care about that sort of thing, do you?”

“Who, me?” Tooru says, voice steady.  “Of course not.”

Sugawara relaxes. “Good,” he says firmly. “So as I was saying, my ex-boyfriend...”

Tooru can’t concentrate on the conversation, or the food. He’s wondering if what he’s been interpreting as joke-flirting on Sugawara’s part had actually been genuine flirting this whole time. And, if it was...then what?

Obviously Sugawara’s attractive, objectively speaking, but does Tooru...No, that won’t do. 

Tooru just made the national team this year. He can’t afford the scandal being caught with a man would cause. He can’t think about it.

“Oikawa-kun. Oikawa. Shittykawa,” Suga says, and that finally gets his attention.

“You can’t call me that, only Iwa-chan gets to call me that,” Tooru responds automatically.

“So it does bother you. The bi thing.” Sugawara looks disappointed, almost, and Tooru instantly feels horrible.

“It doesn’t! Really, it’s fine! I just need to process it a bit, that’s all, okay?” Tooru says.

“Okay,” Sugawara replies, still looking at him like he’s expecting some kind of outburst. “I’d appreciate you not telling other people. I’m only really out to close friends at this point, but I think everyone we’re both friends with knows already.”

“Have you dated any of them?” Tooru blurts out.

Suga laughs. “Dating within friend groups can get messy, so I try to avoid it if I can.” He looks off to the side. “I did make out with Bokuto once at a party while very drunk, but...” He shudders. “Bad idea. Too much teeth.”

Tooru laughs at that. 

 

They don’t see each other very often, and with Sugawara picking up more freelance work and Tooru taking more endorsement deals, they’ve started talking less. They’re not avoiding each other, Tooru tells himself, it’s just the natural way adult friendships drift apart sometimes. He doesn’t have to think about Sugawara often, so he doesn’t have to waste time worrying about any weird feelings that thinking about Sugawara may or may not cause.

The fourth annual Tokyo Sports Association Gala Tooru attends since befriending Sugawara is notable for being the first time Tooru sees Sugawara drunk.

Sugawara’s there as a junior reporter from the  _ Asahi Shimbun, _ press badge clipped to his midnight blue suit jacket. He dresses like he knows how to wear clothes that don’t just fit properly, but make him look as good as possible. The moody lighting in the ballroom makes Sugawara’s silver hair glow as he stands in a circle of other sports reporters, making small talk.

Tooru lets Sugawara wave him over with a slightly-too-loud “Oikawa-saaaan!”

“Suga-chan! Is everything okay?”  _ You don’t usually drink this much,  _ Tooru thinks,  _ if previous parties are anything to go by.  _ Sugawara always struck him as someone who likes to stay in control.

“I had a bad day today,” Sugawara says, with an exaggerated pout. “I’m trying to forget.”

“You might forget how to stand at this rate, Sugawara-san,” one of the other reporters says. She looks concerned. 

“You’re not the boss of me, Umi-chan!” Sugawara laughs, and then stumbles in Tooru’s direction. Tooru catches him by his elbows. Some long-buried captain’s instinct takes over.

“You know what, Suga-chan? Let’s get out of here.”

“Oh, let’s,” Sugawara says, in a low voice that seems to be implying  _ way too many things.  _ Tooru fights to keep a straight face as he drags Sugawara out a side door. His agent shoots him an incredulous look as there’s still an hour left of the party.

“I’m taking care of my friend,” Tooru explains, as Sugawara insists that he can totally get home by himself. “Where do you live again?” 

Sugawara just giggles at this, for whatever reason.

“Where. Do. You. Live.” Tooru punctuates the question by poking Sugawara in the cheek, which just makes him giggle more.

“Setagaya,” Sugawara eventually admits. “‘S not that far.”  
“That’s like halfway across the city, are you kidding? We’re going to my place,” Tooru informs him, and then calls a cab to take them there. 

Sugawara leans against him in the cab. He’s warm, Tooru notices, and heavier than he looks. 

“You’re not gonna throw up, are you?” Tooru asks, shifting slightly. Sugawara just presses into him even more.

“I don’t throw up,” Sugawara declares. “Never have. Except that one time I had the stomach flu in elementary school...You know who does throw up though? Hinata.” He sits bolt upright all of a sudden. “That first practice match we had against Seijoh, Hinata was so nervous he threw up in Tanaka’s lap on the way to your school!”

Hinata Shouyou is the current star middle blocker of the Suntory Sunbirds, and on the national team with Tooru. “I genuinely can’t believe I haven’t heard that story before.”

“I think Kageyama’s mentioned it in a few interviews,” Suga yawns.

“Oh, I don’t watch his interviews. Unless someone tells me to.”

Suga blinks at him, smiling softly. “You really do have a terrible personality,” he says, with so much fondness it makes Tooru’s heart ache. He’s reminded of Iwa-chan, who also likes to affectionately tell Tooru how horrible he is, but this is different, somehow.

“Don’t fall asleep on me, Suga-chan! We’re almost there.”

He lets Sugawara take the bed and sets up the guest futon for himself. Sugawara seems to have sobered up slightly. “You didn’t have to do this, Oikawa, really.”

“I want to,” Tooru insists, and it’s true. He’s not sure why, but he does want to...take care of Sugawara. He shoves some spare clothes at Sugawara instead of saying so.

Sugawara’s looking at him suspiciously. “Okay,” he says, and nothing more than that.

Tooru makes breakfast for two the next morning, wondering how long it’s been since he’s done that. Sugawara wakes up earlier than Tooru was expecting, with a quiet, but heartfelt, “Ow, fuck.”

“How’re you feeling?” Tooru yells.

“Like a 3 out of 10,” Sugawara calls back after a moment.

“That was a mistake,” Sugawara says, walking into the kitchen with a yawn. “Thanks for the water and the painkillers. And for all this, really. Even though it’s totally unnecessary.”

“It’s not a big deal. Iwa-chan’s a total lightweight, so I’m used to this,” Tooru says. Iwa-chan is a lightweight, yeah, but it’s been a while since Tooru’s had to take care of him afterwards. Tooru puts a mug of black coffee on the table. “I don’t know if you have standards when it comes to your coffee, but this is instant, so. Consider yourself warned.”

“Oikawa, have I told you recently that you’re a lifesaver? Because you are,” Sugawara says, and proceeds to drink half the mug in one go. “Now I feel like a human being again.”

“Expect nothing less from the Grand King!” Tooru flashes a peace sign at him from the stove. Sugawara just sighs contentedly. 

“You know, I think this is my first time at your apartment?” Sugawara says, looking around at the low-maintenance house plants and well-stocked bookshelves. “I don’t think you’ve been to my place either. That one time I invited you to my birthday party we’d gone out, and the other time you couldn’t make it.” 

Tooru’s apartment is reasonably clean and uncluttered, but Tooru still finds himself spending as little time there as possible. It just...doesn’t feel quite right, somehow. 

He puts the pan of tamagoyaki on the table, along with bowls of rice and soup. “Iwa-chan’s birthday is far too close to yours,” Tooru sighs, shaking his head. “And he likes to celebrate it with his family back in Miyagi, and I like to go home and see my family too, so.”

“No, I get it. Best friends come first, yeah? This is really good, by the way. I didn’t know you could cook.” 

Tooru does not blush. He has no reason to blush. Why is he blushing. “I’m good at everything, Suga-chan, such is my curse! What made you get so drunk anyway?”  

Sugawara waves a hand vaguely. “Just. Everything went bad at once, you know? First I had to interview this baseball player who was like, all of your worst points multiplied by Tendou from Shiratorizawa at his most annoying, and also he kept making homophobic jokes? And then my mom called and there’s stuff going on with my family, and then I had a really dumb argument with Daichi, and then...” Suga puts his head on the table. “I think Sasakibara from the  _ Yomiuri Shinbun _ challenged me to a drinking contest... I usually don’t do those but it was just a really crappy day.” He blinks up at Tooru and hastily shoves some rice in his mouth. “Sorry for dumping all this on you first thing in the morning.”

“No, this is a moment of pride for me. You always act so cool and composed, Suga-chan, it’s nice to see another side of you. What do they call it? Gap moe.”

“ _ Gap moe, _ ” Sugawara repeats, incredulous. “You’re so weird.” 

He smiles, though, so it’s a win for Tooru.

After that it’s like some boundary’s been navigated, and they hang out at each other’s apartments fairly regularly. Sugawara’s apartment is small and messy, with piles of books and papers scattered all over the place. “It reflects my internal state,” he says solemnly the first time Tooru walks in. “Don’t step on the stack near the TV, those are my notes for the column I’m working on this week.”

“Are all writers like this?”

“Probably,” Sugawara tells him, and hands him a cup of hot chocolate with whipped cream on top, “because you like this sort of thing, right?”

It reminds Tooru of when Iwa-chan still lived in Tokyo, but Iwa-chan had moved back to Miyagi a few years ago, and they haven’t seen each other in person all that much since then. 

Tooru wonders if maybe he’s subconsciously trying to replace Iwa-chan with Sugawara, but the dynamic feels different. Suga never threatens Tooru with violence for his silly comments, just laughs and plays along. Tooru doesn’t think he’s ever seen Suga genuinely flustered or lost for words, not in high school, not in all those years since. Sometimes he gets angry or emotional, but never flustered.

“During our match against Shiratorizawa, our manager Kiyoko-chan tried to give me a confidence boost and I self-destructed. She was like ‘I’m not going to marry you, Sugawara,’ and I was like, ‘You don’t know that!’ God, that was embarrassing. It’s a miracle she’s still friends with me now,” Suga says, when Tooru tells him that, at their usual cafe. He kicks Tooru lightly under the table. “I’ve gotten better at dealing with cute people since then, thankfully. Now it’s  _ your _ turn to share an embarrassing high school crush story.”

“Haaaaa,” Tooru rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. A memory flashes, unbidden, of a jersey marked number 4, a strong hand shoving him forward, a constant presence at his side for so much of his life. “My girlfriend in second year dumped me because I spent too much time on volleyball,” he offers, and Sugawara sighs like this is exactly what he expected.

He hasn’t dated much since then, either. Volleyball continues to take up a lot of his time. And with the kind of following he’s gathered, Tooru figures it benefits him to be like an idol who’s contractually forbidden from dating—potentially available to all those girls who adore him. His agent tends to tell the media that Oikawa Tooru likes to keep his private life private, and it’s worked out so far.

“I shouldn’t be giving you ammunition anyway, Mr. Junior Sports Reporter of the  _ Asahi Shinbun, _ ” Tooru says, grinning. “Imagine the exposés you could write! Oikawa Tooru’s wild school days!”

“You and I both know your school days were just volleyball with a side of more volleyball,” Suga interrupts, smiling. Tooru likes seeing Suga smile. 

 

One time at practice, Bokuto mentions his good friend Kuroo doing something stupid. “Kuroo’s the one with the hair, right?” Tooru says, putting a hand on top of his head to indicate the weird fauxhawk thing he remembered hearing about.

Bokuto freezes in the middle of adjusting his kneepads and gasps loudly. “How have you not met Kuroo yet! I’ve been friends with both of you for  _ so long!  _ What the hell!”

“I...don’t know?” Oikawa blinks in confusion. Apparently, Kuroo works in a research lab, doing some chemistry thing or other, and his schedule’s wildly incompatible with most of Bokuto and Oikawa’s mutual friends. Or so Suga explains it, when they walk into the izakaya together.

“You’re either going to get along extremely well or extremely poorly and I don’t know which way it’s going to go, so I’m a little worried,” he says matter-of-factly, like he’s been thinking about this for a while.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Oikawa says, although he can’t help but wonder what kind of a person this Kuroo guy must be like.

Bokuto, Kuroo and Sawamura of all people (???) are already sitting at a secluded table. Bokuto jumps up and points at Tooru. “Oikawa!” He points at Kuroo. “Kuroo!”

Kuroo smirks in a way that doesn’t seem completely friendly. “I’ve heard  _ a lot  _ about you, Grand King,” Kuroo says. “From various sources.” His gaze flicks to Suga, who glares back, unimpressed. They slide into the booth across from Kuroo, Bokuto and Sawamura.

“Where’s Tsukishima?” Suga asks Kuroo. Kuroo sighs.

“He’s working on a film with Ennoshita and Akaashi again. Yacchan too, I think? They’re all very excited, since it’s about gay volleyball, but also I’m worried Tsukki’s overworking himself again.”

The entire table turns to look at Tooru at this for some reason. “For the record, I haven’t passed out from overwork in like, three whole years now,” he says defensively, and everyone laughs.

“I can’t wait till this movie’s over and I get my boyfriend back,” Kuroo sighs, sipping morosely at his beer.

“Boyfriend?” Tooru blurts out. Kuroo nods, making direct eye contact like a challenge.

“Tsukishima Kei. You might remember him as Karasuno’s tall middle blocker with the glasses. He works in sound design now.”

“You haven’t met Tsukki either? I can’t believe this. I am the worst at introducing my friends to my other friends, it’s me,” Bokuto wails, flopping backwards in his chair. Everyone exchanges a look.

“Not all of your friends need to be friends with each other,” Kuroo says, still staring at Tooru. He seems to be analyzing Tooru.

“I like to keep most people at a safe distance,” Tooru says, smiling stiffly. 

To this, Kuroo simply says: “Hm.” And continues to analyze him.

The evening progresses with Tooru feeling like a bug trapped under a microscope. Kuroo tells them about that time Tsukishima was excited to work on an advertisement related to the  _ Jurassic Park _ franchise, only to learn that he wasn’t responsible for creating the dinosaur sound effects.

“My friends are all such nerds,” Bokuto sighs fondly.

“I take offense to that,” Sawamura interrupts. 

“You’re a prep, that’s nerd-adjacent,” Kuroo explains. “Do you want me to break out the chart again?”

Tooru whispers to Suga. “Suga-chan, what the hell are they talking about?”

“Some meme,” Suga replies, rolling his eyes. He leans against Tooru slightly, and Tooru resists the urge to lean back. Suga’s warm and soft and nice, and his presence is nice, and if Tooru keeps thinking about this he’s going to have to start thinking about consequences and he doesn’t want to do that yet.

Kuroo has broken out a marker pen and drawn a four-panel grid with arrows labeled PREP, JOCK, NERD and GOTH. “So Bokuto’s over here,” he’s saying, tapping the furthest point on both the Prep and Jock scale, “I’m here,” he taps a point on the line between Jock and Nerd, closer to Nerd and Goth, “Sawamura’s here,” he taps a point slightly closer to the center but still in the prep-jock quadrant, “and Suga-chan’s here,” Kuroo concludes, tapping a point close to the edge of Prep and slightly more in the Nerd quadrant than the Jock quadrant.

“Hey, I might be a writer, but I write about sports! I’m in the middle of the jock-nerd spectrum,” Suga argues.

“Where’s Oikawa on this scale?” Sawamura asks. 

Everyone points at a different spot on the grid. Tooru thinks of himself as pretty balanced, a bit more on the jock-prep side than not, Suga puts him at Preppy Nerd, and Bokuto puts him at Preppy Jock, “because you play volleyball for a living, how is that not Jock?”

“Oikawa doesn’t  _ embody the spirit  _ of the jock label,” Suga explains. “And your weird science fiction fixation is what makes you more of a nerd than a jock.” He tries to take the pen from Kuroo and write in Tooru’s name kanji in the nerd quadrant, but Kuroo passes the pen to Bokuto, who sticks it in his hair and declares it safe from harm.

“It’s a hobby, not a fixation!” Tooru protests, laughing. 

“All of the books and manga in his apartment are sci-fi space stories, or volleyball training manuals. I checked,” Suga tells the group. 

Kuroo quirks an eyebrow. “Spend a lot of time at Oikawa’s place, Suga-chan?”

Why does this nerd with terrible hair keep calling Sugawara Suga-chan, Tooru thinks, while Suga just laughs and says, “Not particularly, but it’s a lot cleaner than my apartment, so it’s nice to hang out there occasionally.”

“That’s because your apartment is a fire waiting to happen,” Sawamura says. “So many papers...”

Suga reaches across the table and flicks Sawamura’s forehead. “Shut up.”

Sawamura gestures towards Suga. “Remember when everyone thought Suga was the nice one?”

“No,” they chorus. 

Suga grins at Tooru. “You used to call me Refreshing-kun, back in high school, remember that?” 

Tooru  _ knows  _ he’s blushing. He’s been trying not to drink too much to keep himself in check, but his poker face is always the first thing to go. “Yes, well, that was before I knew your name,  _ Kou-chan. _ ”

“Kou-chan,” Suga repeats. “That’s a new one.” He pulls his legs up on the bench and shifts so he’s facing the wall and leans against Tooru even more. Tooru ruffles Suga’s hair a little.

“I didn’t realize you and Suga were so close now!” Bokuto comments cheerfully. “I demand full credit for bringing you together.”

“We’re not—we’re not  _ together— _ ”

“Relax, Oikawa,” Suga interrupts, sounding tired. “I know you’re straight, I’m not gonna do anything.”

That’s not—”

“That’s not what?” Suga turns around to face him, and Tooru feels paralyzed.

“This is actually painful to watch,” Sawamura whispers to Kuroo, who nods solemnly. Bokuto looks concerned.

“They’ll figure shit out eventually, probably,” Kuroo whispers back. “Let’s go somewhere else.”  
“It’s getting late and we all have work tomorrow,” Sawamura says, ever the responsible one. “Might as well call it a night.”

They pay their bills and head out, everyone living in different parts of the city. The izakaya Bokuto picked is within walking distance of him, Tooru and Kuroo, but Sawamura and Suga need to take a train, so they all walk to the subway station. Suga grabs Tooru’s sleeve and pulls him back from the group.

“Does it bother you? The way I act around you,” Suga asks him. “I really don’t mean anything by it. I can back off if you want.”

“It’s really not that,” Tooru says. He knows, of course, Suga isn’t serious about flirting with him, he’s not even serious with his actual relationships. “I’m not...I don’t want to talk about this right now. Or ever, actually.” His throat feels tight.  _ Read my mind, Suga-chan, don’t make me say it out loud.  _ The other three stop walking.

“ _ Oh _ ,” Bokuto says, and Sawamura and Kuroo shush him.

Suga stares at Tooru, eyes wide with disbelief and something else. He pats Tooru on the arm. “Okay,” he says. And that’s it. Sawamura and Suga wave goodbye and go through the turnstiles.

“Nice meeting you, Kurocchi,” Tooru says. “See you, Bokkun.” And gets out of there as quickly as he possibly can.

\---

It gets worse from there, somehow. Tooru knows he should probably just cut all contact with Suga and get over this stupid feelings thing, but that doesn’t quite happen. Suga gives him space, and Tooru takes it. He starts calling his family and Iwa-chan more often, doing more endorsement deals. He doesn’t  _ need  _ Sugawara to function, he knows. But it is more fun to have Suga in his life than not. The way Makki and Mattsun make fun of his sunglasses advertisement in the Seijoh alumni group chat isn’t like how Suga would tease him.

So he forwards a picture of the billboard to Suga.

“I like the font choices,” Suga replies. “The gradient background is very nice too.”

Tooru sends him a distressed kaomoji. 

_ Suga-chan: You don’t need me to tell you you look good (^ω~) _

The text makes his heart beat faster, even though Tooru knows it’s Suga’s way of taking a step back. A month ago, he would’ve used a more direct compliment. Probably. Tooru doesn’t know anything anymore.

He plays it safe and changes the subject, but continues the conversation. Because the thought of just letting Sugawara Koushi fade out entirely is too painful to consider.

They start being friends again, slowly. 

Suga invites him to a film festival to see the short film his friends made. The problem: It’s an LGBT film festival. 

Rumors have been going around about Tooru, whispers on obscure blogs, about the real reason he’s almost never seen with women. He waves away questions in interviews with a breezy, “I like to keep my personal life private, you know?” But he’s the vice-captain of the national team now, and his fanbase has never been this big or intense.

They’re sitting in Suga’s apartment, Suga drinking coffee, Tooru hot chocolate with whipped cream. Suga likes Tooru’s place better, because it’s clean and spacious, with big windows that give him a great view of Tokyo Bay. Tooru likes Suga’s cramped apartment, though. It feels like Suga.

“You’re being paranoid, no one’s going to kick you off the team for seeing a movie with a friend,” Suga tells him, laughing. “Everyone knows we’re friends, we interact on public social media and everything.” 

“I want to support my friends,” Suga adds after a moment. “And I think it would be a fun thing to do with you.”

So Tooru goes, slightly disguised (He wears sunglasses and a hat to throw off casual observers. Suga laughs at him and tells him that’s exactly how Tobio-chan disguises himself.) The movie’s cute, a love story between two boys on rival volleyball teams obviously inspired by real events. Tooru can feel the love and care that went into putting the film together, and the accuracy that comes from putting everyone’s real-life experience into the final product. He keeps sneaking glances at Suga, watching him react to the film. Suga’s an expressive movie watcher, laughing and making faces the whole time. It’s...cute, Tooru thinks. Really, really cute. Tooru hates it.

There’s some chairs set up in the front for a question-and-answer thing with the film crew after the credits roll. Tooru zones out for most of it until people start clapping. Tsukishima said something inspirational, apparently.

“They’ve all grown  _ so much, _ ” Suga whispers, voiced choked with emotion. He’s the first to jump up when they open up questions to the audience.

“Suga-san!” Yachi and Ennoshita exclaim, Yachi in shock and Ennoshita in slight dismay.

“Congratulations, all of you, first of all,” Suga says.  “Second of all, I assume you still follow the sport, right?” The four of them nod. “What are your thoughts on homophobia in professional volleyball?”

Tooru is at least 70% sure he’s the reason Suga’s asking. He wants to melt into the floor a little.

“We don’t have that much time, Sugawara-san,” Akaashi says, to strained laughter.“It’s bad? It exists and it’s bad?” Yachi offers, to more laughter. She passes the mic to Tsukishima, who speaks carefully. 

“I know some players whose sexuality is an open secret amongst the industry, but sometimes it seems like no matter how famous or talented you are, getting outed could ruin everything.”

He’s probably thinking of Tobio-chan and the shrimp, who have been basically married since their high school days. Tobio-chan actually texted Tooru for advice on confessing, way back when. Tooru’s pretty sure everyone on the team knows about them, they’re terrible at being discreet. The only reason it hasn’t leaked to the press is the fact that their agent is very, very good at her job. 

“It’s getting better, I think, but...very slowly...” Ennoshita finishes.

“Sorry, guys, I didn’t mean to bring the mood down so much,” Suga tells them. They laugh a bit. He sits back down next to Tooru, who gives Suga a look like,  _ what was the purpose of that?  _

Suga’s sitting closer to Shimizu on his other side than Tooru, which feels...weird. Tooru can’t help but stare at the gap between him and Suga, and ache to close it.

There’s a reception after the panel ends. Tooru wants to leave immediately, not in the mood for interacting with people, but Suga is of course friends with everyone there and it would be rude to just leave without talking to everyone first.

“Oikawa! Didn’t expect to see you here,” Sawamura greets him. His wife waves cheerfully.

“Suga-chan made a convincing argument,” Tooru replies, watching Suga chat with Kuroo and Tsukishima next to the drinks table.

“I never would’ve expected you two to become such good friends after high school,” Sawamura says thoughtfully, “but it makes sense, sort of.”

“Good friends,” Yui echoes. “You mean you’re not—?”

“Whatever it is you’re implying, you’re probably wrong!” Tooru forces a smile. At any rate, Sawamura’s not a close enough friend to Tooru to press him on this further.

Suga comes back around. “Everything okay?”  
“I’m fine!” Tooru snaps. 

Suga raises an eyebrow, skeptical. His expression softens. Tooru probably looks pretty pathetic, huh. “Do you wanna go now, then? I don’t mind.”

“Stay as long as you want, Suga-chan! I can go home by myself.” 

“I’ll come with you.”

“You live in the _exact_ _opposite direction,_ Suga-chan.”

“I can still walk with you to the station,” Suga insists. The train station is literally around the corner from the building.

The five-minute walk is painfully awkward. They both get fidgety when they’re nervous. Suga’s tapping his fingers against his thigh like he’s typing one of his articles, and Tooru kind of wants to...stop his tapping. By holding his hand. 

God, even thinking about it is embarrassing.

“Seriously, are you okay? You’re making a weird face,” Suga says at the turnstiles.

“I said I’m fine!”

Suga takes a deep, sustained breath. “Okay, so, you’re figuring stuff out, I get that. Just, when you do figure out what you want from me, you have to tell me. With words. Okay?”

“Okay.”

  
  


Three years ago, Tooru overworked himself to the point of passing out in the middle of morning practice. He practices when he’s stressed out, and sometimes he practices a bit too much. It’s usually not a big deal. Bokuto’s just as bad about practicing until late into the night as he is, so Tooru corners Bokuto for spiking practice.

When he’s focusing on volleyball, he doesn’t have to think about  _ feelings _ or whatever. They practice in silence, the sound of the balls smashing into the court the only noise in the gym until a janitor comes by to let them know that it is11:30 and they should probably go home soon. 

“Are you worrying about something?” Bokuto asks him. “Is it the thing with Suga?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Bokkun! I am the picture of calm!” Tooru accidentally-on-purpose serves a ball into Bokuto’s face. Not hard enough to knock him out, but hard enough to hurt a little. 

Bokuto falls to the ground like he’s dying. “Dude, not cool,” he whines.

“Sorry!” Tooru laughs.

  
  


Iwa-chan calls Tooru the next morning. “Bokuto says you’re practicing too much again. What’s wrong?”

“So many years of friendship and Iwa-chan still thinks he’s my mom,” Tooru sighs dramatically. 

“Tooru,” Iwa-chan says, in his “carefully controlled rage” voice that would make Tooru start running if he was standing next to Iwa-chan in real life. As such, Iwa-chan’s too far away to kill him, so he just turns the volume down a little and puts the phone on speaker while he makes breakfast.

“I’m fine, Iwa-chan, really.”

“Is it the upcoming tournament season? The pressures of being vice captain?”  
“I said I’m fine!”

“Whatever,” Iwa-chan grumbles. “I don’t have time to play guessing games with you anyway.” He hangs up.

And that’s what really drives home how far apart they’ve grown, Tooru thinks. There was a time when Iwaizumi probably would’ve kept pushing him until he admitted whatever he was worrying about. Now, Iwa-chan’s doing doctor-y things, Tooru’s doing volleyball things, and though they still care about each other, it feels like they’re caring from opposite sides of a canyon or something.

He gets a phone call from his actual mother later, reminding him that he can come visit whenever he wants and that if there’s anything he wants to talk about, he can.

 

He keeps staying late at practice for the next week or so, until his coach notices and bans him from being at the gym past 11 pm. Suga texts him a bit, but doesn’t offer to hang out or anything. The ball is in Tooru’s court. Metaphorically speaking. 

Tooru’s lying in bed and tossing a volleyball up and down as he thinks. The volleyball was a gift from the Aoba Johsai team at their last end of the year party, signed by every single team member and both coaches, with little doodles and well-wishes mixed in. He notices Yahaba’s adorably round handwriting and remembers with a wince that he hasn’t talked to his favorite underclassman in several months. 

So, back to The Sugawara Problem. What can he do? It’s not like they can go out on dates. National team vice-captain or not,  _ Olympic bronze medalist _ or not, Tooru highly doubts he’s going to be allowed to keep playing if he’s openly gay in Japan. 

Maybe he could get traded to America or something. No, his English isn’t good enough for that. Would Suga be okay with keeping their relationship secret? If he wanted a relationship, that is...Suga hasn’t dated anyone in a few years now, saying work kept him too busy. 

Then again, Suga’s also said dating within friend groups gets messy...

Tooru lets the volleyball drop onto his forehead with a satisfying  _ thunk! _

“Uuuuuuuuugh.”

His phone vibrates on his bedside table.

“I’m not having a crisis,” Tooru says as he picks up the phone.

“Sounds exactly like something a person having a crisis would say,” Mattsun retorts, unperturbed, “but good timing for it. We’re gonna be in town for your game against the Blazers, wanna grab dinner after it?”

“Who’s we?”

“The usual suspects. Me, Makki, Iwaizumi.”

“Well, I  _ suppose _ I can make room in my busy schedule for some old school pals,” Tooru says, his voice betraying the relief he feels at Mattsun’s invitation. Because he does miss them, all of them.

“Good,” Mattsun says firmly. “See you then, Hanger Tooru.”

The game is a week away when Mattsun calls him, and Tooru hasn’t looked forward to a game more in years. He’s still practicing late, but he feels more energized than ever before. 

“You’re so lively today, Oikawa-kun,” one of his teammates comments at their last practice before the game. 

Tooru chuckles, slightly embarrassed. “My friends are coming to the game, and it’s been a while since we were all able to get together, so.”

“Have I met these friends?” Bokuto asks him in the locker room after the practice.

“Maybe? Probably,” Tooru says, frowning. “You know Iwa-chan, and I probably introduced you to Makki and Mattsun the last time they showed up to a game.”

“Oh! Pink Hair and Eyebrows, right?”

Tooru taps one of Bokuto’s brows lightly. “I don’t think you’re one to talk about other people’s eyebrows, Bokkun.”

_ “Oikawa!”  _

 

The Osaka Blazers are okay. They haven’t been the League Champions in a few years, but they’re not the worst team either. They have Ushijima on their side, now that he’s back from Brazil or wherever he’s been playing for the past few years. Which is probably why Tooru’s Seijoh friends decided to be supportive now, of all times.

He looks up at the stands and sees the three former volleyball players holding up a very large yet low-quality photograph of himself sneezing while eating ramen, with the words “FIGHT ON TOORU-KUN” scribbled in pink marker underneath it. They’re all grinning.

“If you lose, you’re paying for dinner!” Makki yells.

“How does yakiniku sound?” Iwa-chan adds.

“You forget he’s rich and famous now, we should go somewhere  _ nice, _ ” Mattsun says. “You’re still paying if you win, by the way!”

“You  _ guys! _ ” The more things change, the more things stay the same after all. Tooru can’t stop smiling at them.

He glances at the press section of the bleachers and sees Suga. He looks like he hasn’t slept well in a while, which is a little concerning. Tooru wants to wrap him in a blanket and give him warm milk or something. Even thinking about it is embarrassing. How did he get to this point.

“Suga-chan!” Tooru yells.

Suga smiles tiredly and tilts his head at Tooru. “How many times do I have to tell you: when the Press badge is on I’m Sugawara-san. Don’t ask me to cheer for you, by the way, my editor’s expecting 1,000 words on this game and an article about Ushiwaka’s recent return to Japan by Monday.” 

“I guess you’re the one who needs some luck, then,” Tooru says. “Please get some sleep tonight,  _ Sugawara-san _ .”

Suga gives him an unimpressed look that indicates he is definitely not planning on getting a reasonable amount of sleep. “We’ll see. Go line up.”

“Oikawa,” Ushijima says, right before the game starts.

“Ushiwaka-chan,” Tooru returns. “If you say a single word about high school or my life choices not being up to your ideals I will not hesitate to spike into your face.”

“Noted.” Ushijima nods like he’s actually seriously considering what Tooru wants for once.

They’re not going to be friends, though, Tooru thinks as he takes his place at the back of the court. They are never going to be friends.

The game begins and ends with Tooru’s serve smashing into the floorboards with a satisfyingly loud slam. They win the first and the third sets, the Blazers playing well, but not well enough. Ushijima’s left-handedness still gives him an edge, especially since Tokyo’s libero hasn’t had to deal with him before, but they adapt. Bokuto’s learned to manage his downswings better since his teenage years, and he and Ushijima are well-matched.

After the game, Tooru gets a glimpse of Suga cornering Ushijima for an interview, and Suga spots him and yells, “You played well, Oikawa!”

He wasn’t expecting that. He wasn’t expecting Suga to acknowledge him at all, since he’s supposed to be Working™. Tooru flashes a victory sign at Suga and gets changed quickly to go meet his group of friends outside.

“Congrats on the win,” Mattsun and Makki chorus in identically monotone voices. Iwa-chan just scoffs. 

Tooru bows. “All in a day’s work!”

They argue about where to go, eventually settling on a yakiniku place along the Arakawa River. They get a table on the patio with a nice view of the moon over the river, and the waitress blushes when Tooru compliments her earrings, which sets the rest of them off about how “Oikawa’s still the same as ever.”

“So,” Mattsun says, once they’ve all ordered. “About the crisis you’re not having.”

“I’m  _ not, _ ” Tooru repeats, “having a crisis.”

“So you said. But do you want to talk about it anyway?” 

“Give me a minute to work up to it,” Tooru says. His friends exchange a look, but don’t say anything.

“I like someone,” Tooru blurts out as Iwa-chan’s adjusting the meat on the grill, causing Iwa-chan to drop the slice of beef.

“Seriously? That’s it?” Iwa-chan says incredulously.

“What do you mean, ‘That’s it?’ When was the last time Oikawa’s admitted to having  _ feelings _ for another person? This is monumental,” Makki chips in. “Who is it? Are you actually dating that model the tabloids said you were dating?”

Tooru blinks. “What model? I don’t think I even know any models.” He chews extra-slowly as three pairs of eyes glare at him in anticipation of his answer.

“It’s...Sugawara,” he mumbles into the tabletop. He’s not sure what he’s expecting. They’re probably not going to think any less of him for it...right? They’ve been friends for so long...

“The reporter guy you were talking to before the match? Karasuno’s reserve setter? That Sugawara?” Iwaizumi clarifies. Tooru nods miserably.

“Ohhhh,” Mattsun and Makki say in unison. “This explains so much.”

“What. What does this explain, Makki.”

Makki just wiggles his eyebrows at Tooru. Tooru steals some meat off his plate in retaliation. 

“You talk about him in the group chat a lot,” Mattsun says eventually. “Suga-chan said this, Suga-chan did that, Suga-chan finally got a house plant in his terrible tiny apartment and he wants me to help him take care of it— Like, really? Are you sure you’re not already dating and you just didn’t notice?”

Tooru slams his head on the table and groans. He’s glad they don’t care about the gay thing, though. Which makes him wonder if maybe they’d known all along somehow.

“So what’re you gonna do about it?” Iwa-chan asks him.

“I don’t know!” Tooru wails. 

“This explains the crisis,” Mattsun says to Makki, who nods wisely.

“It’s not a crisis.” Tooru glares at them some more. “I think he likes me too, but... I don’t want to risk getting kicked off the team or something.”

“You’re the vice-captain of an Olympic team, pretty sure you’re gonna have to do a lot worse than fuck Sugawara to get kicked off it,” Iwa-chan says, blunt as ever. Tooru chokes on his drink.

“Iwa-chan! Such rude language! And in public, too...What would your mother say?” He shakes his head in mock-disappointment.

“Do you _want_ to die?”  Iwa-chan lunges and Tooru ducks and for a second it’s like they’re back in high school getting dinner after a late practice. It’s been a while since they’ve spent time together in person like this, and yet, surrounded by their former teammates, they fall back into their old, familiar pattern like nothing’s changed.

“Anyway, back to the main question,” Makki interrupts. “Are you going to tell Sugawara?” 

“I think he knows,” Tooru says. “Or suspects, at least. He’s really observant. And funny. And cute. It’s the worst.” He hides his face in his hands.

“Wow,” Mattsun says. “It’s like an entire new type of Oikawa. I’ve never seen you like this before.”

“It’d be so easy if he was a girl,” Tooru sighs. “And maybe not a volleyball reporter.”

“Are you that sure you two won’t be able to keep a relationship secret?” Mattsun looks skeptical. “You’re  _ Oikawa Tooru, _ you can accomplish pretty much anything you try to do.”

“It wouldn’t be fair to Suga-chan.”

“Have you asked him?” Iwa-chan pokes Tooru’s cheek with the wide end of a chopstick. Tooru elbows him in retaliation. “There’s two people in a relationship, you have to let him make a decision too.”

Tooru sighs. “You make a good point.”

“Iwaizumi is always right,” Makki intones in the voice of one delivering an edict from a god.

“I’ll talk to him eventually,” Tooru promises, when they’re in front of the restaurant chatting aimlessly, none of them ready to say goodbye just yet. Matsukawa lights a cigarette. He picked up smoking sometime in the past few years, and the smell lingers in the summer humidity. The air is thick and hot like soup and everything feels just slightly slowed down because of it.

“For what it’s worth,” Iwaizumi says, kicking a rock idly with one foot. “I think you should go for it.” He’s not looking at Tooru. “You...you deserve to be happy.”

Tooru gasps. “Iwa-chan, did you just  _ compliment _ me? I’m so touched! You really  _ do  _ care!”

“Oh my god, shut up.” Iwa-chan punches him in the arm. “Of course I care, you dumbfuck, you’re still my best friend.”

Tooru punches him back, but lightly, more of a friendly tap. “Best friends forever,” he says. It’s not a question.

He looks at Iwa-chan standing there, leaning against the wall and watching Mattsun try and fail to blow smoke rings. There’s still a very faint flicker of something in Tooru’s chest, dying embers of feelings long since moved past. He wonders if Iwa-chan knew, back then, and didn’t say anything to spare Tooru’s feelings. 

“As much as I hate getting sentimental,” Tooru says, twirling around to face the group. “I’m glad you all came tonight. Thanks.”

“You know you can like, call us and invite us to visit whenever, right? Or visit yourself,” Makki points out. “This doesn’t have to be a once-every-few-months thing. Well, maybe for Iwaizumi, but we’re not that far away.” Makki’s a teacher in Saitama now, Mattsun a salaryman in the same area. Iwa-chan’s the only one of them who ended up staying close to home.

“What’s that? You can’t get enough of my beautiful face? Well, why didn’t you just say so?”

“Oh, look at the time.” Iwaizumi makes a show of looking at his bare wrist like he was wearing a watch. 

“But actually,” Mattsun adds, stomping on his cigarette. “I have work tomorrow, so we should probably get going. Nice seeing you, Oikawa.”

They head their separate ways, and when Tooru’s back in his apartment, he pulls out his phone and texts Suga before he loses his nerve.

_ Tooru: hey are u free tomorrow??? _

_ Tooru: WAIT NO YOU HAVE A DEADLINE MONDAY _

_ Tooru: scratch that. are u free....tuesday I have a game so. Wednesday _

_ Tooru: are you free on wednesday. _

_ Suga-chan: lol I have to come into the office for the full day on weds but I could do dinner? _

_ Suga-chan: I’m touched you remembered my deadline tho  _ _ (* ^ ω ^)  _

 

Tooru is not going to read too much into that kaomoji.

 

_ Tooru: I am a very considerate person~! ( ´ v ` ) _

_ Tooru: dinner works for me! I’ll get out of practice for the day at 4, want me to pick you up from your office? _

_ Suga-chan: sounds good! I should be done by 6. See you then! _

 

Tooru spends the days leading up to Wednesday being slightly more of a disaster than usual. He has to shoot a commercial with Bokuto, directed by Yachi Hitoka, and Yachi actually  _ yells _ at him for being too distracted. 

Bokuto slings an arm around him as they leave, half an hour behind schedule. “Dude, if you don’t tell me what’s wrong with you I’m gonna text Iwaizumi and then hold you in a headlock until you spill all the beans. Every. Single. Bean.”

“Mean, Bokkun, mean!”

Saying it again isn’t any easier than it was the first time. “It’s all your fault I’m in this mess now anyway, Bokkun,” Tooru sighs at him. “You’re the one who forced me and Suga-chan to be friends in the first place.”

“I don’t remember that, but sounds like something I’d do. What’s wrong with being Suga’s friend?”

Tooru stares up at the sky. It’s overcast at the moment, and if he was the protagonist of a movie, it would start raining at this exact moment. It doesn’t, but he takes his collapsible umbrella out of his bag anyway. Just in case. “Turns out being friends with Suga-chan is not enough anymore,” he forces out.

“Ohhhhhh,” Bokuto sighs. “You should tell him!”

“And then what?”

“You don’t actually think Suga’s gonna reject you, do you?” Bokuto turns around and raises a skeptical eyebrow at Tooru.

“What if we  _ get caught _ ?”

“Ah.” They make their way to the subway. 

“You and Suga are both pretty smart, you can figure it out,” Bokuto concludes, when they finally part ways. He says this with the same conviction he says anything, and it does make Tooru feel like he could, maybe, figure it out.

They win on Tuesday, even though Tooru switches out halfway through the second set because his knee twinges slightly and the fear of being benched forever is enough to make him talk to his coach and get it examined. From the bench, he watches his backup setter do a clean jump float serve, while in the back of his mind he runs through a dozen variations of how the conversation with Suga could go.

He goes home after the game and does what he always does in times of emotional distress. “Iwa-chan I’m gonna talk to him tomorrow and I will  _ die. _ ”

“What are you, a high school student confessing to his first crush? ... This isn’t actually your first crush, is it?” Tooru can hear rustling and chewing sounds in the background. He must’ve called Iwa-chan during his dinnertime. Oh well.

“Of course not! But it’s the first time I’ve...”  _ decided to do something about my feelings,  _ Tooru thinks. The few girls he went out with in high school didn’t make him feel anything but mild panic at meeting their expectations. He was usually the one getting dumped, back then.

“The first boy?” Iwa-chan sounds more sympathetic over the phone than he usually does in person. “It can’t be that much different than dating a girl.”

“Except for the fact that I won’t be able to tell anyone! Well, most people.”

“Your Facebook relationship status will have to say ‘it’s complicated,’” Iwa-chan says dryly. “And you’ll have to refrain from making out in gym bathrooms.”

“We won’t even be able to hold hands in public,” Tooru points out. 

Iwa-chan sighs. “Yeah, it’s going to suck. But you’re both adults, if you want to make it work, you will make it work. Do you feel better now, dumbass?”

Tooru smiles slightly. “Maybe,” he says. “Now tell me more about the new kid you’re training at your work.”

\---

Tooru makes it through practice and a physical and a meeting with his agent on Wednesday somehow. He changes into a slightly-nicer-than-usual but not too nice outfit and heads over to the building where Suga works. He’s been there before a few times, when he happened to have an interview or photoshoot in the Chuo area and Suga happened to be around too. The Tokyo office of the Asahi Shimbun is a low beige building on the corner of a wide street, and Tooru stands in the shade of a thin maple tree and waits. 

_ Tooru: where u at you said you’ll be out by 6 and it is now 6:03 suga-chan _

_ Suga-chan: lol I’m heading downstairs now! You’re at the front entrance right? _

_ Tooru: yup! _

“Found you,” Suga says right into Tooru’s ear, making him jump a foot in the air. Suga laughs. “Sorry, couldn’t resist. Shall we go?”

Suga steers Tooru straight to a Chinese restaurant that serves Suga’s favorite mapo tofu, explaining that “I’ve been craving it all week and now that the article from Hell is in print I have earned all the mapo tofu I want.”

“It’s a good article,” Tooru says encouragingly, even though he only really had time to skim it in the morning before practice. “Really highlights Ushiwaka-chans’s...unique personality.”

Suga makes a face at him, and they sit down in the back corner booth of the busy restaurant. It’s not a private room, but it’s private enough and the restaurant is loud enough that Tooru figures they probably won’t be overheard. No one seems to recognize him, at least. “Interviewing Ushijima was like getting water from a stone. Worse than Kageyama, because at least Kageyama still looks up to me enough to answer my questions in multiple sentences. And I know which questions make him open up. I don’t think Ushijima recognized me from high school at all.”

Tooru cringes. “I’m pretty sure his two functioning brain cells are only capable of focusing on one thing at a time, and that thing is volleyball.”

“You’d think I’d be used to people like that by now, but apparently not.”

Their orders arrive and Suga lights up at the sight of his long-awaited spicy tofu. “Thank you for the food,” he sing-songs before digging in, and how far gone must Tooru be if he thinks that’s cute?

“So anyway,” Tooru says, while Suga’s busy eating and therefore can’t interrupt him. “I wanted to talk to you...about stuff. In person.” 

“Oh?” Suga smiles at him like a challenge. “What kind of stuff?” 

“I like you,” Tooru tries to say. Only it comes out more like a squeak directed at the wooden tabletop.

Suga’s chopsticks still. “What did you say?”

“I like you,” Tooru repeats, slightly louder, and looks Suga dead in the eye. “I have feelings for you. And I want to try...dating you. Or whatever.”

“You like me,” Suga says softly, like he can’t quite believe it. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure, I wouldn’t be putting myself through this for a hunch,” Tooru snaps, and this makes Suga start laughing.

“Sorry, sorry,” Suga says, still laughing, “it’s just...I’ve never seen you look this worried over something not related to volleyball, it’s kind of funny.”

“Me? Vulnerable? Never.” 

Suga laughs some more. Tooru really does like hearing Suga laugh, and even if that’s all he gets out of this trainwreck, he thinks it might be worth it.

“You don’t have to give me an answer right now,” Tooru says, pushing his fried rice around on his plate. 

“But you would like it if I did, right?” Suga says. Because he knows Tooru by now, better than most people. Tooru nods.

“Okay,” Suga says, smiling. He looks away. “We can try this dating thing out.”

“We can’t tell anyone,” Tooru says quickly. “Is that okay with you?”

“I feel like most of our friends suspect already,” Suga says. “But I’m a reporter, Oikawa, I know what this could do to an athlete’s reputation more than anyone.”

He squeezes Tooru’s hand under the table. “I like you too, okay?” Suga says. “So I do want to try and make things work.”

“Oh. Cool. Great.” Tooru tilts his head down quickly to hide his smile.

“Cool,” Suga echoes. Tooru looks up and they’re both grinning at each other and blushing like losers. It’s embarrassing and Tooru can’t bring himself to care about it, not right now. 

“Come over on Sunday,” Suga says when they part ways for the night. “We can watch that American show you’re always talking about.”

“You mean  _ The X-files? _ You’d watch  _ X-files _ with me? Really?” Suga had always refused to watch it before, claiming that watching things witth subtitles gives him headaches.

“If we’re...” Suga shakes his head slightly in a way that Tooru interprets to mean the word “dating,” “You’ll find a way to make me watch it eventually, so might as well just get it over with.”

Tooru laughs then, the sound echoing into the clear night sky. “Thank you, Suga-chan.”

“Really? Still Suga-chan?” Suga raises an eyebrow.

“Kou-chan,” Tooru amends. 

Suga rolls his eyes. “Tooru.” 

Tooru decides he likes the sound of his given name when Suga says it.

**Author's Note:**

> talk to me on [tumblr](http://cubistemoji.tumblr.com/) or [twitter](http://twitter.com/mashazart/)  
> 


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